Accidentally on Purpose
by SYuuri
Summary: AU JAM. How would Sam and Jules meet if his dad didn't get him the job on Team One? It's not as simple as you think. xX Chapter 2 Xx
1. Party's Over

**Accidentally On Purpose**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.<strong>

**:: This is _completely_, utterly AU. Some of the people and situations are canon, but mostly AU. Think of Team One (mainly Sam and Jules) being in a one and a half hour romantic/comedy movie. This story is just that. The first chapter is a short one- an introduction. Things will start to pick up (and the chapters will be longer) in chapter 2. I have the second chapter written but it still needs a few adjustments and I won't post till I'm done with chapter 3 and so on. Thanks Shiggity for all her help.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Party's Over<strong>

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><p>'<em>I'm dyin' without your-'<em>

Jules slammed the radio off, putting a stop to someone young enough to be her sixteen year old kid from lecturing her about what mattered the most in life—being in love and getting the right girl. If things didn't work out then it's the end of the world, but before, let's write a song about it and make millions. Wordy would know who sang the song. Blessed with three darling daughters, he's familiar with the most current singing sensation. The last one being a blonde girl with Multiple Personality Disorder whose daddy was a former rock star.

Music was still ringing in her eardrums even though the stereo's off. Her throat hurt, an invisible man was poking her head with a hockey stick and at that moment she wanted nothing more than to be at home and get her pliers. The feel of the soft, slightly damp material was starting to grow uncomfortable.

If it's not for Shay's party, she would be sitting Indian style in her living room now, amidst the paint-flecked tarps and crumpled newspapers, trying to mix the blue and green paint she bought from Home Depot the other night.

She's not even remotely close with the blushing bride. She was there simply for formality and she had a good feeling that the invitation had reached her locker by default. Shay's co-worker, who had orchestrated the whole thing had invited every female in SRU with connections to Lew. Even Sophie had made the time; the sweet, mother of two, Sophie Lane. There's no way she could have escaped this one. Ed had been pestering about her _so_ exciting barely existent love life and she could only imagine what he would do when he heard her plan of skipping the celebration.

For someone whose ideal activity was to spend it alone with her assortment of tools and buckets of paint, having to attend bachelorette parties was simply put, a nightmare. Watching a swarm of giggling women slowly but surely get intoxicated while some famous 90s singer singing her heart out about how men didn't impress her much, certainly didn't impress _her_ much.

Shay was an accountant, and she was Lew's fiancée. Those facts combined meant a nice, low-key evening in an exclusive lounge with some Jazzy melody at the background. There would have been a bit of a teasing about her last days being a free woman, some liquor would have been involved, but it'd have been mostly alcohol-free. It _should_ have been like a royalty's bachelorette party, the ones who couldn't afford getting high as a kite and exposed smooching a bartender five minutes after it happened on the internet. The closest thing to that fantasy was the glittering pink tiara on Shay's head.

_That_'s what Jules had thought. Either she was stupid, or naïve. She reckoned she just had too much faith in the world.

Lew would have an instant heart attack when Shay went home with another man's underwear. Or maybe _Lew_ liked it kinky. Everybody had their own quirks. Who knew what her seemingly quiet teammate did behind closed doors. Maybe once Shay took off her glasses, she was an entirely different person, an exact mirror of Clark Kent with and without his black-rimmed glasses.

Like the evening wasn't bad enough already, a slightly-tipsy Keira had point-blank asked her about boyfriends. About the possible plus-one she didn't plan on bringing to the wedding. Her face must have given her away because right after that, waves of recommendation started to flow in. James from the Gun and Gang's department. Keith, the 6'2 French-Canadian with a dazzling smile and a perfect set of dimples. Steve, the paramedic who would look good enough to eat –their words, not hers- once he got a decent haircut. From there, the names piled up. It had started to sound like they're picking out a baby name.

Minutes before they moved the party to one of the suites upstairs, Jules had managed to slip away to the lobby while the other women were busy admiring the bartender showing off his skills and showcasing his abs at the same time. She sent a short text to Winnie, explaining her whereabouts –'_major headache, finally caught the bug that had been going around the headquarter_'—and practically running to the parking lot in her four inch heels. It was an art she had mastered a long time ago, having inherited the genes of her equally petite mother.

She hated that her dress was several inches above the knees and she'd forgot her jacket back at the hotel. She hated that everybody but her seemed to be having a good time. She hated that she had to _giggle_ along the rest of the women. She hated that she was the second oldest woman in there next after Sophie. She hated herself because she knew she should've been more considerate and yet she had been mulling over an escape plan since she first stepped into the building.

Her eyes flicked downwards.

And she hated _that_.

She really needed to get home. Her hand was officially itching now.

Jules flinched when a high-pitched siren disrupted her self-pity. The reflection of the blue and red flasher glaring in her rearview mirror took her headache to the next level. Squinting her eyes, she could vaguely make out the outline of someone sitting behind the wheels.

_Shoot, seriously?_

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><p><strong>Reviews make me happy :)<strong>


	2. Chasing Cars

**Chapter 2: Chasing Cars**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.<strong>

**Thank you for the reviews, I'm glad you liked the first chapter. Hopefully you'll like this one too. I so wish I could do angst, but I have long since accepted that I do better with non-Jam angst so I guess I'll stick with it. It's been a while since I wrote a full-blown story, and honestly I didn't (still don't) have the commitment to finish one, which is why I tried to steer clear of it before, but I really wanted to do this one. That's why I'm having a bit of a hard time, but thanks to Shiggity and Delysia it starts to come together. And hopefully, this won't be one of the stories that I end up abandoning. **crosses fingers****

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><p>The car kept on going for a few meters before Jules slowly pressed down onto the brake and navigated her jeep to the curb. Sighing, she hit her forehead against the steering wheel several times. <em>Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is exactly what I needed. <em>

Then came the constant knocks—shallow knocks- one, two, three. They reminded her of how she used to knock on her father's room for dinner. How he would show up 45 minutes later when the food had gone cold.

Usually, it took approximately 30 seconds for her to figure out if she could wheedle her way out by flashing out the SRU card. This time, she knew as she rolled down her window she wanted nothing to do with anybody, let alone a policeman in desperate need of handing out tickets like Santa giving out presents at Easton Center on Christmas day. Just like usual, the temptation to tell the cop she was 'speeding' to a crime scene, and there were five big, powerful guys with guns waiting for her was nearly overpowering.

But she didn't think said reasons would sound convincing enough when she had on a cocktail dress, completed with curled hair and manicured fingers which would soon get ruined when she pulled on her working overalls or uniform. The day began with the girls herding themselves to Nova Spa for some pampering and relaxation. In spite of her initial doubts, she ended up enjoying herself and felt a trifle guilty about it for some unknown reason. She glanced at her plum colored fingernails dispiritedly and fisted her hands, hiding them. It didn't make her feel better.

"Evening, Ma'am. Did you know how fast you were going?"

Her eyes darted to the speedometer. "Not that fast."

There was a dangerous glint in the cop's eyes she didn't really care for. Three cars passed before he pulled out a notepad from his pocket, scratching his temple with his pen. "You were driving 125, and that was faster than the regulation. Going somewhere?"

"Yeah, home." Home, where she could take a long, hot shower. But that was _after_ she got her pliers. The pliers were her first priority. "Look, I'm sorry, but I promise next time I'll pay more attention. Cross my heart."

The cop grinned; a lop-sided grin that gave the illusion of a frat boy. She wondered if he just graduated the police academy last season—a cub. A car drove by, its headlights shining his profile and making his blue eyes look green. It was a funny reminder of the bucket of paints she stored under the stairs. She felt even more homesick all of a sudden, and pissed. "May I see your driver's license and registration, please?"

"Do I look like I'm into grand theft auto?" Jules frowned, unable to keep the annoyance from her voice, and complied, figuring the sooner she did it, the faster he would be out of her hair. Given her current situation, it wasn't an easy task to do. There was no way she would allow him, or anybody to see _it_. It was a little awkward, but she managed to grab her papers from the glove box and handed them to him. Slender fingers drummed against the steering wheel in an impatient rhythm as he checked her identification.

"Julianna Callaghan," he tested. "Julianna," and repeated. "Nice picture." And commented.

She didn't know what to make of that, considering she looked confused, stoned and pissed altogether in the photo. She cleared her throat.

"Look, Pal, we both know what this is about. It's the end of the month and you're running out of time. Believe me, I sympathize with you, but you know what? I'm a cop too." Her eyes watched him closely, waiting for that burst she knew was coming. It's always coming. She didn't expect him to lean over, forearm on her window while the other bracing himself. His pretty face was a little bit too close to hers for her liking.

"Oh, really? Are you drunk too?"

"What? No! I'm serious, I _am_ a cop. SRU." He was invading her personal space, his nose _was_ inside her car. He looked at her intently like she was an antique exhibition at the museum and he was an American tourist. If he was checking for glazy eyes and trying to smell any trace of alcohol, he was in for a disappointment.

He tapped his chin, looking thoughtful. She was trying to come up with 1001 solutions to get rid of him when he calmly said, "Do I smell… honey?"

_Oh Lord, you've got to be joking! _Did she smell a rookie cub trying to pick up girls while ticketing them? Did she smell the antibiotics he would be on after she's done with him? The disinfectant in the hospital?

Jules scowled, completely disregarding his inappropriate remark. "No, _seriously_, can we just work this out?"

Smiling a less cheery smile, the cop moved back and gestured for her to come out. "I'll decide whether you're drunk or not. Please come out of the car."

…And that was something she had been dreading. _No_. Panic and pride immediately manifested themselves in a series of frantic words. "I'm telling you that I'm a cop and you're accusing me of driving while impaired? What if Harper's driving along and telling you to your face that he's the prime minister? Would you say he's three sheets to the wind as well?"

"I won't repeat myself, Miss Callaghan." He stood a bit straighter now, one hand hovering near the holster on his hip, signifying he would use his gun if necessary. He was probably preparing himself if she suddenly grabbed hers –which she had conveniently left at home—and started shooting.

But she couldn't get out, could she? Not in her condition. She _refused_ to be the source of ridicule of the entire department of Toronto Police Service for months to come.

Taking a deep breath, Jules smoothed down her dress and opened her door, chin up and eyes daring him to say anything. The staring contest only lasted a few heartbeats. She looked away first, feeling like it was her first day all over again, Ed and Parker and especially Ed, scrutinizing her every move. Wondered how he was going to like it when she told him that after her third drink, Sophie was more than eager to move the party upstairs and get her hands on the _blazingly _sexy firefighter – pun intended.

It took the cop approximately ten seconds to finally release a rather animalistic snort. She shuffled her feet, transferring her weight from one high heeled foot to another and concentrated hard on the already chipped nail polish on her toes peeking from the slingbacks. Less than 12 hours. Way to go, Callaghan.

"Can we please just get on with this?" It came out harsher than she intended, but at this point she really couldn't give a damn. This evening had taken an even worse turn and really, how worse could it possibly get?

"So, you said something about being a cop?" He asked again, standing more relaxed now. The cocky grin made her want to punch him on the face, or mow him down with a lawnmower. "I'm sure you are a cop. Someone's being bad, from the looks of it."

He was smirking at the handcuff snuggly embracing her right wrist, its partner hanging limply against her leg. They were a pink abomination. A forged combination of magenta tinted metal complete with a wrung of _itchy_ pink fur laced around the cuffs. Nothing said kinky like a little pleasure in pain.

"Look, this was an accident alright. There was this party-" She stopped short. Why was she explaining herself to him? Pliers. She needed pliers. Or maybe she could have him in a headlock until he agreed to shoot them for her. "Can we please just finish this already? Do whatever you want, I don't care anymore."

Grins morphed to chuckles and reality hit her head like tons of bricks. Jules closed her eyes, one hand tiredly massaging the bridge of her nose. Next thing she knew, he would charge her for driving under the influence _and_ prostitution. Ed would never live this down. "I didn't mean it like _that_."

"Sure you didn't." Was his amused response and she wished a car would swerve and run him down.

Jules rubbed at the love cuff as though doing so would make whatever Power above take pity on her and magic-wand the offensive object to disappear. She was genuinely happy for Lew and Shay, but it wouldn't hurt them to celebrate their new life together without ruining _her_ life. _Fuck this._ "Look, my friend's getting married this weekend and tonight was his fiancée's bachelorette's party. This is simply a case of wardrobe malfunction."

One of the girls had decided to get creative when she voiced for the second time that she had to leave. _'Constable Callaghan, you're under arrest for spoiling the fun!'_. Fortunately for her, some random guy had asked Jill to dance before she could complete her dramatic cop moment, probably cuffing Jules to the leg of the table. She didn't know whether she'd rather stay and endure painful hours watching half-naked men or be hit on by this overrated cop at the side of the road while a container truck drove by, blowing out heavy blue smoke as a silent middle finger.

"I just want to go home and free myself as soon as possible, so maybe that's why I unconsciously went faster than I should've. I just wanted to get my tools."

Suddenly wide-eyed, the police snorted, scribbling something on his pad, probably an epilogue for the novel about this terrible fiasco. "Oh, so you still have more of those… tools?"

It was said in a casual way, like they were old buddies from school, but the teasing tone was as transparent as his attempt to be friendly with her. She swore she _never_ wanted to snipe someone as badly as she was now. _Sniper breathing, Jules, sniper breathing._

"You know, your attitude is not what I would have expected from Canada's finest. Did you buy your way to get that badge by any chance?"

Pen stopped writing and eyes slowly flickered up to meet hers. Blue met brown. She held her ground, not wavering her eyes from his. His jaw tightened and she realized if she was a guy, he would have already pummeled her to a pulp, laws be damned. She'd like to see him try. Oh yes.

"Right, says someone who's calling herself a cop." He finally replied after a lingering pause, continuing with whatever he was scribbling on that pad- Chapter 1: How not to be an Asshole.

_Bad move, Callaghan. False judgment. Now he's going to arrest you with real cuffs. _

"I _am_ a cop." Jules could feel her jugular pulsing, blood rushing to her head. "I'm a sniper with the SRU." Her hand was flailing and her other equally pink cuff swung like a pendulum, barely missing his face. Shame.

"Hey! Do you want me to charge you for carrying a concealed weapon?" He snapped, for the first time that evening showing a decent, appropriate emotion.

She huffed like he just said the most ridiculous thing, and glanced down in an undisguised effort. "Please, the only concealed weapon here is your—"

In one swift movement he grabbed her arm and turned her around, pressing her against the side of her car. The engine was still warm. She released an involuntary grunt. "Okay, that's it. If you want to play rough, then-"

"_8-5-6, come in." _

Jules craned her neck to look at him, struggling to get free. He used one hand to hold her back, the other reaching for the radio on his shoulder. It was the room she needed. She could prick his foot with her shoe, jab him under the chin and turn the table. He wasn't any heavier than Spike or maybe Wordy. Unfortunately she had nobody who would so willingly pay her bail. Not even Sarge.

"8-5-6, check."

"_Braddock, what's your 20? We got a 10-55 and possible PD in Sammon and O'Connor." _

"I'm ten minutes away, I'll be there."

A crackling static and a hearty laugh. _"Yeah, just when Donna decided to get married, eh? We're down several people tonight. I'm afraid you're on your own. I'll send more patrols your way ASAP_. _Jude's got a party to break up in Dundas." _

"Copy that. I'll radio if I need backup."

"_I'm 10-10 on the side." _

Jules stopped fighting against him. His hand was large, cold, and calloused. Domestic abuse. Just last week the team received a hot call of an adoption gone wrong. Ed had to shoot the grieving father and it hurt her knowing that the baby would grow up without ever knowing her real parents. Unbidden, she felt a knot form in her stomach; a wave of memories washed to the shore.

"Okay, seems like this is your lucky night after all-"

"Wait, I want to help!" Jules yelled over her shoulder, cutting him mid-sentence. Even without looking at his face she realized how ridiculous she sounded.

"We don't exactly need you to snipe anyone, Miss Callaghan." The cop answered. His voice was husky. The tone of his voice suggested that he didn't really believe she was a sniper, but it didn't matter now.

Jules fought the urge to roll her eyes, feeling the damp, cold hands holding her slacken before releasing her completely. She rubbed her wrists, trying to shake some feelings back into her hands. If she tried hard enough, she could pretend that the cuffs weren't there. "I'm SRU. Talk before tactics. I've done my fair share of negotiating."

Jaw set, blue eyes as cold as the steel around her wrist. Now he looked like a real cop. Officer Braddock. Her eyes drifted to his tag. _S. Braddock_. Spencer? Scott? Seth? He kind of looked like a Seth, or maybe a Schuyler. She wished it was Sylvester, it would make her day.

Jules raised her hands to show him that she's not even remotely a threat. "If you don't believe me my badge number is 2166, feel free to look it up. It will say that I'm with the SRU." She went on, with a bit of an effort pulling the corner of her lips into a small smile. He wasn't appeased. "So? Shall we?"

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><p><strong>Will he let her tag along? So as you can see, personality wise this is season one Jules and Sam. Because I love their dynamic and dorky Sam is adorkable. Reviews make me happy :) <strong>


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